Twilight’s Pleasure Ch. 06

Author’s Note: And so begins the Intruders Arc! This is basically to introduce the intruders, so no sex, and I’m sorry it’s so short. Don’t worry though, things definitely pick up in the next chapter! ,)

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‘How much longer until the door is open?’

Sashia Lightblessed asked tersely, standing tensely and alert for any sign of an ambush, sparing barely a glance at the crouched form of her party’s rogue, Bartholomew Twitche, her trusty mace in hand to discourage any gorillas or other beasts that might think the five of them an easy meal.

The rogue just grunted, muttering a tense, ‘Don’t rush me, this is complex work,’ in reply, slim fingers working on opening the physical locks on the door in front of him while the party’s mage Beatrice Fleur disabled the magical alarms and traps.

Hazel Beastheart, the hunter in the party, ignored the small conversation behind her, resting one gloved hand on the back of her pet lynx Redfang as they stood guard along with Sashia. The paladin was watching one direction while the hunter covered the other, making sure that nothing attacked the mage and the rogue while they worked, Shi’miri the priest standing off to the side and just watching them all.

The door Bartholomew was working on was one that had been concealed behind a myriad of spells and magic traps, in addition to physical ones, and imbedded into the side of one of the walls in Mistvale Valley. That they had stumbled upon it at all while collecting gorilla skins for a merchant in Booty Bay had been nothing more than a stroke of luck, and at the opportunity to open it and see if it barred the way to something that could increase their wealth the entire party had understandably jumped at the chance. The gorilla skins weren’t going to net them much of a reward, after all, hence Bartholomew applying his lock picking and trap disabling skills to the door itself and Beatrice unraveling the magical wards that had cloaked the entrance to whatever was inside the cliff.

Seeing nothing for quite a ways around, even when she briefly switched to Aspect of the Hawk, Hazel turned her attention back to her party and once more marveled at what a strange group they were. For lack of anything better to do, she examined each of her companions closely.

Sashia Lightblessed was the first one she turned her sharp eyes on, the paladin standing straight and tall, and Hazel once more marveled at her 6 ft. 6 inches of height. Sashia was tall for a human, and was the very picture of the righteous paladin with her long blonde hair and bright blue eyes and rich golden skin. Her face was as fair as the Light, or so it had been said, and her full, supple lips could form a smile that was seduction itself. The paladin also sported a large bust and lush figure, outlined helpfully by her tabard and chainmail armor, complete with nicely curved hips and a toned stomach and long legs. Sashia had once told her, while drunk on Dwarven Ale, that her last name, Lightblessed, was one that she’d taken on after becoming a paladin to spite the girls in her home village that had mocked her for her tits, which had always been much larger than other girls’ breasts had been. ”Oh, she’s surely been blessed by the light, with a chest like that!” Sashia had quoted one of the taunts to her, smiling the smile of one who knew she’d had the last laugh.

And surely Sashia had been blessed by the light, to have breasts as large as hers, Hazel privately thought, sneaking a glance at the blonde woman’s tits, which were perfectly round and filled her tabard almost to overflowing. They were undoubtedly an F-cup at the very least, the huntress thought, and Sashia fought as easily with them as though they were an A-cup instead. There were rumors that it was because of Sashia’s command of her Light-given powers that she had earned her last name, so both Hazel and Sashia had a good laugh because they knew the truth.

The paladin had a firm sense of justice and true belief in the power of the Light, and she wasn’t one to stand idly by and let injustice go unpunished. She wielded her blessed mace to devastating effect, having felled more than her fair share of undead and Horde scum with it, and she hardly ever had any need of the shield strapped to her back. Sashia had earned her fame in the Arathi Basin when she had single-handedly turned the tide of a losing battle and helped the Alliance forces claim victory that day, pushing back the Horde forces. Without a doubt a good person to have on your side, the hunter thought with a slight smile on her lips.

Her eyes now drifting to the crouched form of the rogue Bartholomew, she thought that there couldn’t be a more average-looking person in all of Azeroth. When standing up straight, Bartholomew was an unimposing 5’3, which had made many a person suspect him of having dwarf blood in his veins, and his face seemed to be permanently fixed into a semi-bored expression. Combined with his stringy brown hair, dull brown eyes, and slightly pale skin and you had a man who was easily overlooked, and the rogue often used that to his advantage. He wore dark, light-weight leather armor as all rogues did, and he knew how to use the two daggers sheathed at his waist in addition to a variety of poisons that he carried in various pouches on his belt.

The rogue was also caustic, pessimistic, and likely one of the biggest cowards ever to walk the face of Azeroth, and as far as Hazel knew, theirs’ was the only party he had ever worked with more than once. Despite his personality, Hazel thought grudgingly, you couldn’t deny that the man was good at his job.

Next up was Beatrice, a vivacious young woman with an undeniable zest for life and a ready smile, something that was all the more precious in their line of work. The mage had curly brown hair that just barely brushed her lower back and laughing eyes the color of fresh spring grass. She stood at an average 5’5, though that still made her taller than Bartholomew, something that the mage never let the rogue forget. She was clothed in a blue and gold robe that fit her body snugly, especially across the chest where the cloth molded to her D-Cup breasts lovingly, part of her bust showed off by the low neckline. She carried a staff as tall as she was and knew how to use it, though like all mages her main weapons were her spells, her personal favorites being fireball and icebolt.

The petite woman was an all-around cheery person, appreciative of a good joke and always ready to tell them, she could also hold her liquor like no one else Hazel knew. This of course combined with her other mentioned traits always made her extremely popular with any dwarves they came across. Everyone had their vices, however, and after some careful observation Hazel had discovered Beatrice’s: the mage was a slut, plain and simple. Every time they stopped at an inn or bar, the mage always slipped away while everyone was distracted and came back sometime later smelling, at least to Hazel’s nose, strongly of sex. Honestly, as if the self-satisfied smile on Beatrice’s face whenever she showed back up wasn’t enough of a clue. Still, the hunter said nothing about it, since she couldn’t deny that the mage had never let them down during a quest.

And then there was Shi’miri, the newest addition to their party and not one that any of them knew particularly well. The Draenei woman was the quiet sort, hardly ever speaking unless spoken to. She was 5’8 tall, and her skin and horns were a lovely shade of sky blue. Her hair was black and fell in waves down to the base of her tail, which was poking out of the plain white and gray robe the priestess was wearing, which was long enough to hide her hooves. The Draenei priestess had a figure akin to that of a succubus, all curvy hips, flat stomach, and D-Cup breasts that were perfectly outlined by her robe.

The only reason Shi’miri was there, Hazel thought with a hidden grimace, was that the priest who usually worked with them had died while trying to complete a solo
quest for some extra coin. Not, she told herself mentally, that the quiet priestess had given them any reason to distrust her – Shi’miri’s healing and support spells were top-notch, and they couldn’t ask for more than that.

Finally, there was her, Hazel Beastheart, a fourth generation hunter, and one she guessed could also be called a beautiful woman. She wore no cosmetics, her full lips almost always pressed into a thin line and her dark brown eyes narrowed in thought or alertness, and her skin was darkly tanned from hours spent in the sun. She was dressed in heavy leather armor, some of it lined with the fur of beasts she’d killed, and none of it especially flattered her figure aside from her strong legs, toned arms, and flat stomach. Her breasts were large, the same as those of the other women in the party, except hers’ were a DD-Cup, as she’d discovered when she had covertly measured them one day. Thankfully her jerkin and breastplate helped to conceal just how large they were, she thought in relief, even if they were proportional to her 6’3 standing height.

Her pet was the lynx she had named Redfang, and he was an animal she would trust with her life. They had been through many trials and quests together, aiding and rescuing each other, and that wasn’t even counting the trouble she had gone through to acquire him in the first place. Lynxes with Redfang’s rich red fur roamed almost exclusively in blood elven lands, and she had risked death and worse to tame one for herself. He came up to her waist at the shoulder, and he was over 6 ft. long from snout to tail tip. His razor sharp claws and fangs had saved her life many a time, as her arrows and dagger had saved his.

She was jolted out of her thoughts when Bartholomew said abruptly, ‘It’s open. Let’s get going before someone notices we’re breaking in.’

Sashia was the one who opened the door and the first one who stepped into the dimly lit hallway that was revealed, though Hazel quickly followed her along with Redfang. The long hallway was only barely lit by some kind of magic orbs that were embedded in the ceiling along it, and Sashia immediately called up an orb of Light around her hand to help light their way. The corridor extended far into the cliff, or so it appeared, Hazel noted, and from where they were all standing, the door silently closing behind them, the hallway branched off in five directions a little further down. They were all cautious and on their guard as they slowly crept down the passageway, approaching where the hallway split off. They could all see the doors that lined the hall along the straight path, but their curiosity demanded that they investigate the others as well to be sure that they got all the treasure they possibly could.

‘Alright, it appears that here is where we split up,’ Sashia declared, ‘You all know what to do: pick a path, follow it down a certain distance, then turn around and come back. We all meet back here where the hall splits, understood?’

There were nods all around, even from Shi’miri, and they all silently chose the passage they wanted to explore. Sashia chose the main hallway, to no one’s surprise, and Bartholomew chose the first hallway to the left. Beatrice selected the second hallway to the left, and Hazel’s instincts told her to choose the first hallway to the right, which left Shi’miri with the second hallway to the right. The priestess didn’t object, and so with one last nod to each other, the party split up and set about exploring the passageways that they had chosen.